


We Fight Like Stars

by SpaceVinci



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: I am a total sucker for star analogies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7063999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceVinci/pseuds/SpaceVinci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So despite being deathly afraid of black holes, I had an idea for a black hole analogy, since Dex is a big hockey guy but it's easy to forget that when he stands hunched into himself and shy (usually when Nursey is touching him, just sayin'). Anyway, this happened. Welp. Enjoy!</p><p>(This is my first Check Please! fancfic so here goes??)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Fight Like Stars

Dex is the stars.

Nursey can’t count the amount of times he’s pinpointed the constellations on his cheeks, his neck, his spine, all the places he knows he can never touch, not in the ways he wants to. Dex is a veritable galaxy, with beautiful red skies that flush his cheeks and make his stars glow. He is the night sky, unreachable, and always there, taunting. The man in the moon, a cold face that Nursey still finds himself turning to for light, looking up to make a wish on the stars.

Dex is an explosion.

He erupts like a dying star, and the galactic crimson burns like fire. In seeking warmth, that rush of heat up his spine as he gazes upon those stars, Nursey threw himself into the fire, fed it, and willed it to burn brighter. Dex is yelling, bursting, and Nursey isn’t listening, because he can never hear that voice say what he dreams of – gentle “I love you”s and soft “be mine”s – but he can hear this. He can have the explosion.

Dex is a blackhole.

He sucks up Nursey, sucks up his attention and his very being, without even realizing it. He will never realize, Nursey knows, never can. Dex is not a small man, but he stands to compress himself. The slump of his shoulders, the cautious crane of his neck, are the empty hole after an explosion. Dex stands like he does not want to exist, and Nursey wants nothing more to than exist by his side.

They are stars.

They are the pinpricks of hope against the night sky. And they survive, even after the chaos they have caused. Dex’s stars shine hotter than ever, his galaxies impossibly bright, as Nursey brings their lips together. They burn, the both of them, but for once they do not fear explosion. This is right, the joining of stars, the lapping of flame against flame. Nursey almost doesn’t hear Dex’s voice – soft “I love you”s and gentle “be mine”s – against the rush of fire and stars and ecstasy, but he listens.

He listens, and he hears Dex’s stars.


End file.
